Categories > Games > Final Fantasy X > Yevonite to Al Bhed
"Don't," the word hung in the air between them, having been issued by her candy mouth the moment he'd tried to touch her. His fingers twitched, wanting to smooth over the bare skin beneath him, wanting to learn the place and size of freckles and scars. He held back, his brown eyes measuring her golden tanned warmth, seeing her stretched out, sprawled out, against his pillows. "Don't," she said again, a quiet shake of her head, her face flushed.
"But-"
"No," her voice brushed his ear as she bent upwards, fingers pressing against his rough and cracked lips. His eyes fluttered closed, her breath hot and soft against the side of his neck. She was warm melted Al Bhed ice-cream around him, caramel thickened and sweet. Her bony knees nudged up against the small of his back, a silent request for more, faster, deeper. His spine arched and twisted in slowly, long rolling liquid movements that turned her easy breath into hard gasps.
"Goddammit all t' Yevon..." he muttered, his red hair falling into his face as he grabbed onto her shoulders to get some leverage, hips driving steadily into hers. A sudden smile crossed her face, a laugh bursting out of her breathless lungs at his words, cursing a god he still half-believed in. He growled and reached, fingers slipping down between them despite her soft protests. She whimpered, the sound rolling off him as his nails scraped her skin.
"Uhn, asshole..." she said, without her usual fire. He bent down to bite her lower lip, silencing her insults. He'd been surprised the first time they'd gone to the dark places within themselves, surprised at her, surprised at the way she'd opened up to him. A desert flower already blossomed, all curse words and venom and scratching nails when she was mad, and soft quiet desperation when she wasn't. He'd tried to ask her who, if not him, but she wouldn't answer. She'd shaken her head hard and pushed him down, her body molding to him, making all his questions evaporate, pyreflies after death kissed its victim.
The shadow in her eyes had slowly disappeared that night as she moved over him, sweat running down her like teardrops, the feel and scent of her imprinted in his memory. It became usual, the two of them coiled together, regular, familiar/, and he'd stopped asking questions. In the end it hadn't mattered who it'd been, she was /his now, trembled for him now, begged for him now.
A groan rumbled up within his chest, shuddering over her as she cried out sharply. Her nails dug into the back of his neck and scratching hard, and he looked down at her, confused. Her eyes welled with tears and he bent his mouth to hers, his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. It was like this, had been like this, since they'd hurled words at each other, furious across the gulf of religion and birthright and goddammit all to Yevon, she was /beautiful/. She'd come back to him after, angry, hurt, vengeful, and he'd let her all over him anyway, somehow not afraid like he'd been previously.
"I hate you," she whispered, fingers sliding along the back of his neck as he kissed her again, blunting the thoughts of yesterday with his lips down her neck.
"I know," he said, Yevonite to Al Bhed and kissed her again. "It's okay."
"But-"
"No," her voice brushed his ear as she bent upwards, fingers pressing against his rough and cracked lips. His eyes fluttered closed, her breath hot and soft against the side of his neck. She was warm melted Al Bhed ice-cream around him, caramel thickened and sweet. Her bony knees nudged up against the small of his back, a silent request for more, faster, deeper. His spine arched and twisted in slowly, long rolling liquid movements that turned her easy breath into hard gasps.
"Goddammit all t' Yevon..." he muttered, his red hair falling into his face as he grabbed onto her shoulders to get some leverage, hips driving steadily into hers. A sudden smile crossed her face, a laugh bursting out of her breathless lungs at his words, cursing a god he still half-believed in. He growled and reached, fingers slipping down between them despite her soft protests. She whimpered, the sound rolling off him as his nails scraped her skin.
"Uhn, asshole..." she said, without her usual fire. He bent down to bite her lower lip, silencing her insults. He'd been surprised the first time they'd gone to the dark places within themselves, surprised at her, surprised at the way she'd opened up to him. A desert flower already blossomed, all curse words and venom and scratching nails when she was mad, and soft quiet desperation when she wasn't. He'd tried to ask her who, if not him, but she wouldn't answer. She'd shaken her head hard and pushed him down, her body molding to him, making all his questions evaporate, pyreflies after death kissed its victim.
The shadow in her eyes had slowly disappeared that night as she moved over him, sweat running down her like teardrops, the feel and scent of her imprinted in his memory. It became usual, the two of them coiled together, regular, familiar/, and he'd stopped asking questions. In the end it hadn't mattered who it'd been, she was /his now, trembled for him now, begged for him now.
A groan rumbled up within his chest, shuddering over her as she cried out sharply. Her nails dug into the back of his neck and scratching hard, and he looked down at her, confused. Her eyes welled with tears and he bent his mouth to hers, his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. It was like this, had been like this, since they'd hurled words at each other, furious across the gulf of religion and birthright and goddammit all to Yevon, she was /beautiful/. She'd come back to him after, angry, hurt, vengeful, and he'd let her all over him anyway, somehow not afraid like he'd been previously.
"I hate you," she whispered, fingers sliding along the back of his neck as he kissed her again, blunting the thoughts of yesterday with his lips down her neck.
"I know," he said, Yevonite to Al Bhed and kissed her again. "It's okay."
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